


Everything in Nothing

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thorki - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Realistic canon divergence, Sibling Incest, no smutt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 06:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: What life was like as teenagers, in Asgard.





	Everything in Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> This Drabble is being used to announce that I will be writing again, although most of you don’t give a crap, but it’s happening. It’s so happening.

It was late, the constellations were shooting down in beams by the hour, and in the silence purring at Loki’s ear, only the wind was making noise. The curtains by the terrace blew in and out of the room. The junipers placed at the corners of the room twisted ever so slightly as not to disturb the two boys who were very much, supposed to be, asleep. Loki was rested on his side, a book in hand, the tiniest green flame hovering above his head like a nightlight. He turned the page, then where his one finger lay bemixt in the book he drew out an old, flattened carnation flower and placed it on the last page he read. ‘Interesting,’ he mouthed. He exhaled onto the hovering flame and it dissipated like a hot breath in the winter. He daggered the book beneath his pillow. Although his side table lacked no skill in holding it, he preferred it as close as possible to him. Out of the quietness that settled over the room, the quietness that poured out from under the muffled bedding, the limbs shifting in the night, Thor found a place to speak. Loki had figured he was asleep. What were you reading? He asked.

  
Loki looked up at the ceiling, the void that replaced what he knew was a mural of sorts during the day. He waited a moment or two before he responded. Don’t tell father, he whispered into the dark. Thor had moved onto his side, watching with eager curiosity. Loki didn’t move. ‘A book of spells. Shapeshifting.’

  
‘Oh,’ Thor managed.

  
He shouldn’t have told his brother, he thought. Now he’d be found out.

  
Are you a witch? Now Loki moved. He sat up, facing his brother’s silhouette. Excuse me? Are you a witch? No, I heard you the first time you asked, Thor. ‘I merely meant Excuse Me to mean Hold Your Tong-’

  
‘Show me,’ Thor interjected. What? Have you lost hearing to witchcraft, brother?

  
‘Fine,’ Loki agreed, ‘come here.’ And he did. His feet moved softly in the night as if he was worried someone might hear as if he was worried that magic was as forbidden as Loki suggested with his tone. They sat across from each other, Loki still covered by the silk drapes he slept in and Thor, in a single cloth, burning red hot underneath his skin like an animal. Watch closely, brother. His eyes sparked with a green light and then as quickly as it began, it ended. Loki had shapeshifted into Thor. ‘Woah.’ _Woah_ , Loki, repeated in his head. All he had to say for Loki’s gifts: Woah. Bafoon. Green lights flashed again. Thor barely glanced the spell take place and Loki was back to normal. ‘More.’ More? ‘Yes. More!’ Quiet, Thor. ‘Sorry… I just think a witch for a brother is splendid.’ For the last time, I am not a witch.

  
‘Would you like long hair like mine, brother?’ Loki asked a second later. His face was lit up in a smile and a wicked eyebrow. Yes, Thor said.

Frigga noticed the changes that came as Loki studied. It was thoroughly evident one might say. There was Thor insisting that Loki and he remain in adjoined rooms until they’re much, much older. Thor insisting, ‘No!’ He likes his hair long and wavy the way it is; ‘No, it’s not growing too fast.’ And of course, she notices when muddy and wet, haste stricken in his eyes and wonder gleaming from his head, Thor insists, ‘the library needs more books on magic, how to wield it, yield to it, feel for it, feed it. Whatever.’ So young, Frigga commented to her ladies, and already so much like his father, demanding this and that and not understanding the word no more than how to use it.

  
Loki’s grateful to say the least. Their room fills up with books from all corners of magic from all corners of the universe until, eventually, there are none of Loki’s favorite flowers to bookmark them. ‘Here,’ Thor says and it’s the lightest carnation petal Loki has ever seen peeking out from between his fingers. Where? Is all Loki manages to mumble. ‘I told mother to plant more. There aren’t many blooming yet, but I picked one from the flower bed this morning. Although I fear I crushed most of it away. Sorry.’ Loki takes it happily and sends it to the last page of the last book he read that day. At night time again, he reads, bookmarks, and then shows Thor what he’s accomplished. Thor is astonished every time he does. His mind is blown, mended and then rocketed all the same into the galaxies above and below Asgard. However, as Loki’s abilities grow, improve and mold into something as magnificent as Thor’s secret carnations, it transpires into something unpredictable. His seiðr, he has learned to call it, calls out to those around him. In his sleep when the cold breath of the night cools his skin, he calls out for warmth. His voice echoes without him speaking, without him being aware, to Thor.

  
‘Yes?’ Thor asks sleepily, but Loki is asleep. ‘Cold?’ Loki doesn’t answer, but something draws Thor out of his bed and into Loki’s. He places his arm over his brother, climbs in behind him, and whispers, ‘I’m here.’

  
This happens almost every night.

 

 

‘You will begin to train,’ the All Father said.

  
Thor beamed. Loki glanced at his brother like a snake might do, or a gorgon. His eyes darting and his body frozen like stone. ‘My eldest son, if you wish to be King, you must be gifted in fighting, enduring battle, understanding the art of war.’ Art, Loki though, certainly not. Thor seemed tranced by the idea of training. He had helped Loki master his own training for weeks now, protected him from any obstacles that might’ve flown his way had he been on the journey alone. Being alone, Loki felt, might frighten him more than he was willing to admit. The way Thor smiled Thor seemed to think so though.

  
The sun set with an intense orange corona splitting the horizon in two. Loki was reading on his bed and Thor’s head rested at his feet. The blond guffawed with laughter, imagining his first quest to Vanaheim, telling Loki of how he’ll most likely wield an Ax or a Warhammer and behead his enemies upon the first choice of action. ‘You’re too young for a battle, brother.’

  
‘You’re too young to be a witch, but it hasn’t stopped you.’

  
‘I’ve reflected. I think I prefer the term _sorcerer_. What do you think?’

  
Thor looked at him, he was contemplating. ‘My brother. The greatest sorcerer in all nine realms.’

  
‘And the ones between.’

  
‘And the ones between,’ Thor repeated. ‘Do you think I’ll be the greatest king?’

  
Loki bit his tongue. Well, he admitted, seeing that I won’t be. I suppose you’ll have to make do. Thor scoffed and tackled him, his book falling to the floor. ‘You wicked mean boy!’ He teased. They rolled together, drifting away from Loki’s studies and the spot that Thor had been dreaming. Thor’s laughter was loud like anything else he did. It reverberated within Loki like a tremor of an earthquake might or the rolling thunder over clouds. Loki was squirming under Thor’s hands, toppling over his belly, tortured by the tickles. ‘Stop it now. Stop. It hurts.’ They fell to a stop, the blond straddled by Loki’s leg, and breathless. ‘I just meant I wish I could stand a chance beside you.’

  
‘What do you mean?’

  
‘You’re eldest. You’re _king_. And I am familiar with the ways of politics, but you’re always first. Always above me.’

  
‘Right now, I’m below you.’ You know what I mean, Thor. The blond sits up, however, Loki doesn’t move from his lap. They watch each other. ‘We should be equal. We are equal.’ I don’t feel so. Father treats you with such fulfillment that I fade like magic through the walls. ‘Can you actually do that?’ Focus, brother. ‘Sorry.’

  
Loki stands up, he holds out his hand to help Thor and they move back to the bed together. The night passes. Thor doesn’t move back to his own bed, he settles beside Loki, hand to hip, nose to hair, keeping him warm. There was no complaint from Loki. The winter wrath is upon us, he said, it’s best you stay in bed with me. Thor knew better though. Winter was at ends. The breeze was warm. Loki was lying. Sometime between midnight and dawn the blond mutters into his brother’s neck, ‘you may lie to me, brother, and I will see the truth.’ It was a language Loki grew accustomed to lying, deceit, mischief. He found comfort in the fact that Thor could translate his silver-tongued words for what they really meant.

‘Mother,’ Thor demanded, ‘our father refuses to allow Loki to train beside me, but I will not continue without my own brother.’ Oh Thor, she cried. Oh, Thor, Oh Thor, Oh Thor. Loki exclaimed the same, Oh, Thor when his brother returned to their chambers that night. ‘It has been declared! We will fight together, train as allies and live as brothers. Perhaps one day even rule together as kings.’ Oh, Thor, you big blond idiot, I could kiss you! Thor smiled, pleased with himself. ‘And you should! I convinced the All Father himself… well, sort of. I had a liaison.’ And Loki does, on Thor’s cheek, a warm, small, chaste kiss. It means nothing and everything. Thor, however, didn’t know how to understand such a thing, everything, and nothing. He traced his fingers over the kiss, studying it, as Loki leaped away in excited cries. ‘Woah,’ he mumbled to himself. Woah. All he had to say for Loki’s gifts.

  
That night in bed, Thor rests closer to Loki, then further, and again closer, undecided, unsure, until eventually, Loki has to groan to get him to keep still. What’s bothering you so, brother? ‘Nothing. Nothing. I’m just… playing a game. We’re on a boat. See,’ and Thor shifts back and forth behind Loki as if waves were passing through them.  
‘Thor,’ Loki warns.

  
‘Sorry.’

  
‘You’re thinking, I can feel it. You’re thinking of one thing, but I can’t tell what it is, so spit it out. Please.’

  
‘What do you mean you can feel it?’

  
Loki sighs, sleep caught in his throat, ‘I can feel you, Thor. Whatever it is, everything or nothing. I feel it.’

  
Thor thinks for a moment. He slides his hands into Loki’s and squeezes. He’s thinking so loud. His thoughts are hammering on the brim of his head. ‘Can you kiss me again?’

  
‘What?’ Kiss me again.

  
‘Why?’ Just kiss me.

  
‘Thor.’ Loki. ‘Fine.’

  
It’s quick, too quick, too meaningless, but Loki pecks him on the cheek, annoyed and tired. ‘No, brother. That’s now the way you kiss.’

  
‘Then how do you kiss, Thor? I’m too tired for this game.’

  
‘Like this,’ Thor whispered and he pressed his lips to Loki’s cheek. He made sure to be soft, to be gentle and to leave on Loki’s skin the sensation of everything and nothing. Carnations, Loki thought. It was his last thought while his brother’s lips left him. Carnations. Carnations and thunder and warmness. This was everything to Loki, but without Thor, it would’ve been nothing.

  
‘Oh,’ Loki stuttered. He curled his hand against Thor’s where his fingers were already hinged to his. ‘I see.’

Training with Thor was difficult for Loki. The blond moved more forcefully with big arms, big teeth, and big, unstoppable movements. Loki was restraining from using his magic, knowing the All Father would disapprove, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he did use his abilities how his brother would struggle to keep up. What if I distract him? I could do that, though Loki. He reached forward, not with his hands but with his mind, tapping on the edge of Thor’s soul and projecting images into him.

  
Thor fumbled, tripped forward, whispering, ‘Loki,’ as he fell. Loki laughed, pleased with himself. The blond growled, shot up and lunged at his brother. ‘You’ll pay for that, minx!’ And Loki found himself locked in Thor’s grip, bent in a position that smothered itself with the word defeat. ‘Off of me!’ Loki yelled at Thor. Thor’s hold seized immediately, so stricken by the vexation in Loki’s voice. Sorry, he muttered.

Sorry, he muttered again when they were in their bedroom that night. I didn’t think, he said. I just wanted to be even, he claimed. Sorry, sorry, sorry. ‘We never apologize to the reprieved, brother. That’s not a king’s way.’ Loki, don’t be this way, please.

  
Thor crawled over his brother, begging silently until they were face to face. He kissed Loki’s nose. ‘Let me make it up to you, brother,’ Thor said quietly, imagining that images Loki pushed into his head during their training so intensely that he figured his brother would notice. Loki did. The younger boy glanced at his brother for a brief moment then took in another one as if he was thirsty for the sight of Thor -- begging, especially. Fine, he told Thor.

  
The blonde pressed down against his brother and let his lips flutter to Loki’s. He made it soft, unexpecting and curious like a kiss could embody the entity of an explorer. It was as simple as nothing, as breathing and yet, there, at that moment, while Loki was enveloped by Thor, as he was being searched for, needed, wanted, loved, embraced, and seen, it was everything. ‘This is the way you kiss?’ He asked.

  
‘Yes. When you love someone.’


End file.
